


anything for the grade

by magatsuslut (pecanroll69)



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Begging, Blackmail, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Intercrural Sex, Light breathplay, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Professor Kink, Sexual Tension, Spit Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, hm didnt know that last one was a tag, if choking on his dick counts, more tags to come when the smut begins, sorta. threats to grades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28452306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pecanroll69/pseuds/magatsuslut
Summary: au where adachi is a college professor and you're an unlucky student in desperate need of an attitude adjustmentafab fem reader
Relationships: Adachi Tohru/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year! heres to another year of adachifucking 🥂🥂🥂 no explicit smut in the first 2 chapters, just Extreme Sexual Tension cause im a slut for that shit. also I headcanon professor adachi still wears his glasses cause hes gotta read so much, just throwin that out there. i was a liiiittle tipsy when editing this in the spirit of new years so take that as you will

Adachi fights back a yawn as he scribbles barely-legible comments into the margins of yet another unsatisfactory paper. Unfortunately for the students whose essays ended up at the bottom of the pile, his handwriting gets noticeably worse as the night drags on. After jotting down some general feedback and a number grade, he glances up at his open laptop. The harsh blue light cutting through the darkness of his room strains his eyes. The clock at the bottom corner of the screen indicates that it's already 4am. When the hell did it get so late? Sleepiness weighs down his eyelids and dulls the criticism that fuels each stroke of his pen. Having to stay up to grade even one more essay sounds like torture.

Resigned, he grabs the last remaining essay with a sigh. His sour mood quickly lifts upon reading the name at the top of the page. A smirk surfaces on his face. He takes back what he thought a moment ago– grading your papers is _always_ a pleasure.

He had taken an interest in you the moment you walked into his classroom. Your looks were what first drew him in, and he was surprised to find you were smart too. Surprised, and more than a bit frustrated.

Quite honestly, you piss him off. You show up late every day, and you clearly wait until the last minute to complete assignments. It's evident that you artfully bullshit your way through discussions whenever you haven't done the reading. Even so, you gracefully handle any questions he throws at you to trip you up. It’s infuriating.

He took his studies very seriously when he was younger, and it annoys him that you lack all of his discipline but still manage to do so well. He fantasizes about taking you down a peg by bending you over a desk and fucking you silly, reducing his bright and articulate student to an incoherent mess and proving that you're nothing more than a dumb slut. The thought had kept him up at night on more than one occasion. It's just a fantasy though– he doesn't plan on losing his job just because one distractingly attractive student grates on his nerves. That being said, he's not above grading you more harshly than his other students in an attempt to assuage his bitterness.

He grins proudly as he stares down at the red ink bleeding onto the page, red ink that would soon stare back at you accusingly. Surely this will teach you not to disrespect him. It won’t be as effective as forcing his cock down your throat and telling you just how much of a brat you are, but it will have to suffice.

Satisfied with his work, Adachi snaps his laptop shut and turns off his desk lamp. He takes his glasses off and places them on the nightstand before settling into bed. Thinking about punishing you had made his cock uncomfortably hard, and for a moment he considers rubbing one out to relieve the tension. His exhaustion outweighs his horniness though, and he dozes off before he can do anything about the tightness in his sweatpants. He'll deal with it tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Your hurried footsteps echo on the tiled floor. You take your phone out to check the time again, as if doing so will somehow prevent you from getting to class any later. The clock on your phone reads 2:09, a whole 9 minutes late. _Fuck._ You tend to be a bit late, but this is worse than usual. It feels like it would be more polite to just skip at this point, but you can’t afford to miss any more class. Your gait slows as you approach the classroom, feigning nonchalance.

You open the door as quietly as possible, still drawing a few glances your way as you take your seat at the back of the class. Among those stares are the dark and disdainful eyes of your professor. Though he doesn't stop his lecture because of the interruption, his eyes follow you to your seat and continue boring into you uncomfortably as you take out your notebook and pen. Thankfully, it seems like the only thing you missed was a reminder about the upcoming paper.

_Shit,_ there's an upcoming paper.

"Are there any further questions?"

Not a single hand shoots up, and Professor Adachi smiles. "Good, I'm glad everyone was listening." He opens the book you were supposed to have read for today, his fingers languidly turning the pages to find where you left off last class. You watch his hands with rapt attention; they're strangely elegant, and his slow movements are almost hypnotic. His eyes dart back up, focusing on you once more. You only look up to meet his gaze when his hands stop moving.

"Oh, and before we begin, let me remind you that tardies do count against the attendance portion of your grade." You roll your eyes in a moment of lapsed judgement, causing your professor's mouth to twitch downward in annoyance. Strike two. You shrink back into your chair as if to apologize for offending him. He looks away and continues his lecture.

You sit through class anxiously, doing your best to act the part of a responsible student while you try and figure out how the hell you're going to start and finish this paper by tomorrow. Professor Adachi glances at you more often than usual, and you can't help but think there's something more sinister than annoyance in his eyes. No, you must be imagining it. That doesn't stop you from pressing your thighs together each time those hungry eyes return to you, occasionally straying from your face to look down at the view your low-cut shirt provides. In spite of the heightened tension between you today, you decide the best way to save your grade is to ask him for an extension on the paper deadline. The worst he can say is no, you reassure yourself.

Adachi is pleased to find you speaking up less than usual. Maybe he had done a good job in scaring you into submission. Your tense expression is new to him, and he likes it. He watches you chew on your lip– a nervous habit, he presumes– and wishes it was his teeth sinking into your skin. You’re making it harder for him to focus on teaching, and he resents you for it.

Time passes agonizingly slow. You silently rejoice when Professor Adachi finally dismisses class. You take your time putting your stuff back into your backpack, watching the other students slowly filter out of the classroom as you work up the courage to make your request. You exhale an exasperated breath when another student breaks off from the pack to speak to your professor. The wait makes you even more anxious to approach him.

Once the last student leaves, you hesitantly make your way towards the podium. The dark circles under Adachi's eyes are more pronounced than usual. Maybe that's why he seems so irritable today.

"Professor Adachi?"

"Yes?"

"Sorry for the lateness. Again."

He holds back a wry smile. It looks like you're attempting to ingratiate yourself to him because you want something. Students– and people at large-- _always_ want something.

"That's alright. I'm sure you have your reasons. It's a bad habit, though, so try to work on it, okay?" He speaks softly. It's oddly comforting, and a welcome contrast from the stern tone he used to embarrass you in class earlier.

You nod. "Of course, thank you for the advice." You take a deep breath to steady yourself. "I'm really sorry about this, I got caught up with assignments for other classes and haven't had much time to work on the upcoming paper. Would it… be possible for you to give me an extension?"

He smiles and your eyes light up briefly. "You should be prioritizing my class. It's not my responsibility if you get a bad grade for slacking off, now is it?" Your heart sinks and you stumble to make your case.

"You're right, it's my own fault, and I'm sorry. I promise, I'll only ask for this once. I-it doesn't even have to be a full day, just a few hours later. Please."

He pauses for a moment to heighten your anticipation before he coldly denies your plea for mercy, but he reconsiders once he notices how distraught you look. You've given him the perfect opportunity to get back at you for your insolence, and it would be a shame to pass it up. His eyes briefly flicker to the door, which had conveniently closed behind the last student, before returning to you.

"Beg for it."

You blink a few times in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Beg for it, and I'll give you the extension."

"I'm not begging–"

"Then no extension." He interjects casually, as if his request is perfectly reasonable. You work your jaw in frustration.

"Fine," you huff. _"Please_ give me the extension, professor?"

"Mm, not good enough. Do I need to define begging for you?"

An angry flush burns your cheeks. "Please, I really need it."

He smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Better, but not quite. Get on your knees and I'll think about it."

You pause, the grimacing briefly before you regain your composure. "You're joking, right?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You reluctantly obey, trying to suppress the scowl that's fighting so hard to make itself known as you lower yourself onto the uncomfortable floor. You look up at him and his smug grin only pisses you off more. "Please, I really need this. I'll do whatever you want."

The desperation in your voice tempts him enough that, despite his better judgement, he can't resist touching you. He places a hand on your head and pets your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. He half considers grabbing a fistful of your strands and forcing you against his growing erection. But the classroom is too public– that would have to wait until he found a way to get you alone.

"Whatever I want? Don't give me any ideas. I could ask you to do more than just beg with that pretty mouth of yours." He chuckles, gleefully watching your grip tighten on the fabric of your skirt as you try to manage the mix of resentment and embarrassment bubbling up inside. "Don't worry, I'm only kidding."

You're not entirely convinced of that. You swallow apprehensively before your gaze momentarily shifts down to his pants, where your suspicions are confirmed: he's getting off on this. Of course-- it's just your luck that your sadistic professor also happens to be a creepy pervert. You squirm with a confusing mix of disgust and attraction. Still, you decide to play along, exaggerating the neediness in your voice in an attempt to satisfy his power fantasy and get what you want.

"Please, sir, I'll be a good girl from now on. Please give it to me, I need it so badly." His grin widens unnaturally, and you consider that maybe you shouldn't have gone so far to please him, that maybe he was a more dangerous man than you'd initially thought.

Satisfied, he removes his hand from its place on your head. When he speaks, his voice is low and dripping with condescension. "Very good. You've got your extension. That wasn't so hard, was it, sweetheart?" You cringe at the term of endearment.

"No, sir. Thank you." You're shaking with anger and fear, making it difficult to stand up. You turn around to grab your things and leave the classroom as quickly as possible, but he grabs your wrist before you can get too far.

"You're pretty when you beg, you know." He watches the indignant expression on your face with sick pleasure as you force a fake-polite reply out of your mouth.

"Thank you."

He lets go of your wrist. You pick up your bag and hastily make your way towards the door. You don't turn around or make eye contact with him the entire time, but you can somehow feel his eyes wandering across your body. Despite the unpleasantness of the interaction, your underwear is far damper than it should be as you hurry out of the classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader's disobedience finally emboldens adachi to get hands-on with his punishment
> 
> warning for dubcon bc even tho reader agrees to it, theres a power imbalance and blackmail elements with reader's grades at stake

Much to your chagrin, your confrontation with your professor had awakened something in you that you would prefer to ignore. Your mind wanders during lectures, repeating his words in that sultry voice:

_"Whatever I want?"_

He looked like he was going to devour you right then and there. The lust you had sensed in his gaze didn’t subside by the next class period, or the one after that. As much as you hate to admit it, it’s titillating to feel his eyes so brazenly fixated on your curves, and you can't resist dressing more provocatively as an unspoken invitation. If you were going to interrupt class by showing up late, you would at least give him something nice to look at. His reactions are subtle, but there’s always some indication that he’s noticed you– be it his fingers flexing at his side or his tongue running along his top lip absentmindedly.

But hungry eyes aren’t enough for you. You want him to follow up on his inappropriate remarks from before, but proposing that yourself would damage your dignity. Disrespect provoked him last time, which gives you an idea. A foolish idea, admittedly.

In the middle of the lecture, you take out a book for another class and flip it open, keeping your eyes on the page except to steal glances at your professor to gauge his reaction. It doesn’t take him long to notice that your attention has wandered. He glares at you for a second, but the malice in his expression quickly dissipates and he simply ignores you. You put away the book, dejected that your plan had backfired. Class carries on as it always does.

Adachi would _love_ to offer you a snarky quip for your insolence, but he knows if he spends any more time looking at you, the resulting sexual frustration would be unbearable. As it stands, he can hardly stay focused on his less-than-engaging job even without you taunting him. Teaching introductory level classes isn’t exactly thrilling. The thought of ending the lesson early and taking you right here in the classroom is far more tempting. He holds back a smirk when he realizes he'll have an opportunity to do just that after class.

Adachi concludes the lesson with an all too convenient announcement. “I’ll be returning your papers today, so don’t leave before seeing me.” 

A mix of fear and excitement churns in your stomach. You employ the same strategy as the last time you had to stay after class, waiting at your seat until all your classmates have left. You’re lost in your thoughts and you hardly notice that the two of you are alone in the room until you hear the door slam shut. Your professor beckons you with a finger, his other hand tapping the podium impatiently. You join him at the front of the class and stare at him expectantly.

“You know, your grade might be better if you actually paid attention instead of reading for other classes.” He hands you your essay face up, making no attempt to hide the damning number scratched in red ink. You’ve _never_ received such a low grade. Your chest tightens and your mind races. Frantic words escape your mouth as quickly as they enter your mind.

“I-I only did that today. I turned in this paper before that. This is– there’s no good reason for my grade to be this low.” You can feel hot, angry tears forming at the corners of your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. His eyes widen; he didn't know this would make you cry. It's turning him on. He steps out from behind the podium, moving closer to you before dropping his voice.

“Aw, don’t cry. I could help you bring your grade up.”

You clench the paper in your hand and furrow your brows in disbelief, any desire to sleep with this man forgotten in light of his petty bullshit. “ _Help me?_ I’m tired of your games. They’re childish, and cruel, and– and I'll tell someone you're doing this!”

He raises an eyebrow. "And what exactly am I doing? Enlighten me."

"You're fucking up my grades! Just because you don't like me or something!"

He tilts his head to the side, clearly amused. "And how would you prove it? You show up late, get sassy with me, then turn in a rushed paper, and you still expect me to give you an A? I think you've earned the grade you got all on your own."

“That’s not– That doesn’t excuse asking a student to get on their knees and beg! I’ll report you, y-you creep.”

His voice is smooth, his tone even. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? No one will believe you.” He takes another step closer, making the warmth in your cheeks travel downward.

"Of course they'll believe me. All my other professors adore me. It's clear _you're_ the one with a problem. I get that I should be more punctual, but I’m a good student when it counts. You just refuse to admit that for some reason." His smug mask momentarily falters. Your mouth falls open as the reason for his behavior finally dawns on you. "Oh my god. Are you threatened by my intelligence?"

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing you. One minute you’re crying, and the next you’re trying to stomp on his ego? You’re a real piece of work. "Don't get mouthy with me. Why would I be intimidated by someone who gets off on dressing like a whore to tempt her professor? **”**

You avert your eyes in an unintentional admission of guilt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughs. **“** You think I didn’t notice the way you started dressing after I got you on your knees? It couldn’t be any more obvious that you want something from me." Your eyes linger on his lips for a little too long.

“I-I want a good grade.”

“Is that all you want?”

You don’t even notice you’re backed against a wall until he plants his hand next to your head and you find yourself unable to move any further away from him. You drop your essay to the floor in surprise. Cornered like this, you seem small to him, and far less confident than you were a minute ago.

You swallow thickly and take a moment to regain your composure. “That’s all.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” You glare at him and move to push him away, but he grabs your wrist and effortlessly pins it against the wall.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Giving you what you want.” His free hand ghosts over your side, and his eyes lower to shamelessly ogle your tits. “Are you going to tell me to stop? Threaten to tattle on me?”

You pause, unsure if you should listen to the angry voice in your head or the pulsating heat between your legs. Lust triumphs over pride. “...No.”

The grin on his face is insufferable. “Oh? Where’s all your fight now, baby?”

He gives you no time to retort, taking your lips with his own and enveloping you in a passionate but loveless kiss. His hands wander your body greedily before finally settling on your ass and kneading the soft flesh. Every nip at your lips elicits a moan from you and a hum of approval from your professor. He grinds against you, ensuring you know just how hard you've made him.

Adachi pulls away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he watches you melt under his touch. His fingers dance at the hem of your skirt before slipping under the scandalously short garment and yanking your underwear down. He runs a finger across your folds, coating it in your arousal.

“Wow, you’re already this wet? I didn’t know you were so easy... I guess I should’ve expected as much from a depraved bitch like you.” He prods at your entrance, making you squirm. Your reaction encourages him to push a finger inside, then two. You gasp at the sudden stretch, but he wastes no time pumping his fingers. Despite your best efforts, small moans and whimpers escape your lips each time his fingers thrust into you. You bury your tear-streaked face in his shirt, unable to handle the embarrassment his lust-filled gaze provokes. He smirks, placing a hand on your head and stroking your hair gingerly. His hushed voice is sickeningly sweet. "Oh no, my fingers just slipped right in. That means you're more than ready to take my cock, right?” You mumble something affirmative into his chest, but it's not good enough for him. The hand in your hair tugs your head back, forcing you back against the wall. "Look at me when you're talking to me, slut."

"Please, Professor Adachi, I want your cock so badly."

"Hm, too bad. You need to learn that you don't always get what you want." He pulls his hand out of your hair to clamp it over your mouth, muffling your moans as he speeds up the aggressive rhythm of his fingers. His thumb rubs circles against your clit and you fall deeper into ecstasy. The closer you get, the harder it is for your shaky legs to support your weight. The only thing keeping you standing are Adachi’s talented fingers working your cunt. You tighten around him and he slows down, a sadistic grin plastered on his face. "What, does that feel good?"

Words failing you, you moan into his hand.

He laughs, low and dark. “It’s a shame your other professors can’t see how pathetic you look. Their star student isn’t so impressive now, is she?”

Without warning, he removes his fingers and wipes them off on your leg. You respond with a disappointed whine.

"Shut up and turn around, whore."

You promptly obey, sticking your ass out to him invitingly. He undoes his slacks just enough to free his cock and shoves it between your thighs with a low groan. The fluid coating your thighs makes it all too easy for him to thrust lazily between your legs. _"Shit,_ your thighs are so soft. I know you're desperate for me to fuck you, but I think a slut like you deserves to be teased for all you've put me through." He squeezes the outside of your thighs, pushing them closer together and increasing that delicious friction. It’s torturous to feel his length sliding across your pussy when you just want him inside you. You gasp each time the head of his cock bumps your clit. He kisses your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin until it’s stained purple. His heavy breathing and occasional moans make your walls involuntarily clench around nothing. You steady yourself with one hand on the wall, your other hand suppressing the moans that threaten to alert others to your illicit activities.

Adachi grows more desperate to reach his climax, fucking your thighs faster and harder. His cock drags against your clit more consistently now, and you feel ashamed that you just might be able to cum from this. Your dripping cunt gushes around him and makes your thighs slicker with each thrust. His fingernails dig into your hips as he tries to resist the temptation to impale you on his cock. It would be fun to tease you more, to show you that he alone controls your pleasure, but his resolve quickly weakens and he positions his cock at your entrance. He inhales a shaky breath in preparation to finally enter you.

Approaching footsteps in the hallway make you both tense up. He pulls away and curses under his breath– _of course_ he’d be interrupted just as he’s about to fill your needy cunt. You quickly pull your underwear up and smooth your skirt down. Adachi tucks his cock back into his pants, his erection straining uncomfortably against the fabric. 

"Fuck, I really wanted to teach you a lesson right here." He runs a hand through his messy hair and sighs. “Why don’t we continue this at my place tonight? Give me your number.” He digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You enter your number obediently.

"Yes, sir. Anything to fix my grade."

He snickers. "Don't be coy. What's the point in pretending you're doing this solely for the grade when you almost came on my fingers just now?"

"Force of habit, I guess." Your legs feel like jelly as you bend over to grab the essay you had dropped.

"Hm. I'll just have to train that out of you then, won't I?" He grins before walking back behind the podium to collect his things. "We'll work on that tonight. You'll be a perfect teacher's pet for me in no time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this fic is the most amt of chapters ive ever done in a fic after I decided to do a bonus chapter lmao. yay! sidenote idk if I'll be able to post anything for adachis birthday bc I've been focusing on this fic instead but I wanted to at least say happy early 37th birthday to my trashman<333


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adachi finally gets to fuck reader!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh another one that ive had mostly finished in my drafts for awhile bc I was unsatisfied with it but fuck it im gonna post. nearly every time i started editing this i would get distracted and go on long wikipedia reading sprees so sorry for the delay!

Adachi hasn't texted you by the time you get back to your apartment. He doesn't text you the next hour either, or the hour after that. You had gone about your day with your pussy occasionally clenching around nothing when you remembered his dick between your thighs or his condescending words. Lost in fantasies, you now find it difficult to focus on homework as you anxiously await any contact from your professor. Of course the bastard would keep you on edge like this. Is he busy with other classes, or just fucking with you? As soon as you consider the possibility that maybe this was all a drawn out and very committed joke on his part, you feel your phone vibrate.

8:43 - I want you over here by 9. Don't make me wait. I'll send you my address. 

How demanding. Less than 30 minutes notice? What a dick. That’s to be expected, you suppose.

You’ve been ready to leave for what feels like hours now, so it doesn’t take you long to get out of the house. It _does_ take you an inordinate amount of time to find his apartment thanks to you getting lost on the way. You finally knock on his door at a quarter past nine. Adachi's scowl is the first thing you see when he opens the door.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be on time. It's abundantly clear you still need a major attitude adjustment," he snaps.

You roll your eyes. "Maybe you should've let me know earlier when you wanted me to come over instead of stringing me along for hours."

He snickers. "Oh? Were you excited for this all day? Y'know, you're pretty impatient for someone who likes to keep others waiting."

He steps aside to let you in, checking you out as you brush past him. You kick off your shoes and place them by the door. Turning around, you find yourself in a tiny and surprisingly spartan apartment. Before you can get a better look at your surroundings, your professor steps in front of you and blocks your view.

He takes a lock of your hair between his fingers and gives you a predatory smirk. "Let's not waste any more time, alright?"

His hand darts to the back of your head and yanks on your hair, tilting your head back so he has better access to your lips. His movements are rough and frenzied, but you find yourself responding with just as much fervor. He shoves his tongue in your mouth, exploring it greedily. Any of your attempts to playfully push against the intrusion in your mouth are quickly subdued. He only breaks the kiss to pull your shirt up over your head, flicking his tongue over your teeth when he pulls back. His eyes light up with mischief at the sight of your bare chest.

"No bra? How sweet, you came ready for me... I hope you're not wearing panties either." His hand slips under the hem of your skirt to test his suspicions. As expected, there isn't any fabric to deter his fingers from prodding at your soft flesh, already wet and sticky with arousal. "It seems you _are_ learning a thing or two about your place… good girl," he purrs seductively. You know you should feel patronized, but the term of endearment sends a shiver through your body, one that does not go unnoticed. Almost as if rewarding your obedience, Adachi intentionally brushes your clit as he pulls his hand away. A small moan escapes your lips. He scissors his fingers, admiring the trail of fluid that connects them, before wiping them off on your cheek. "Cute," he whispers. He pulls your skirt down, leaving you completely naked while he remains clothed.

"I want to see you on your knees again. I've been thinking about it ever since that first time." He undoes his belt and proceeds to drop both his pants and underwear in one swift motion.

You lower yourself to your knees, chewing your lip nervously and debating whether or not you should confess. "I have too…"

He raises his eyebrows. "Is that so?" His expression is one of adoration: adoration for your willingness– no, eagerness-- to indulge him, and for the candor that's replaced your previous coy behavior. "Alright, slut. Show me how badly you've been craving my cock."

You don't bother licking along his length or teasing his cock with kisses, knowing full well that your professor is hardly a patient man. You wrap your lips around the tip and look up at him with the sweetest, most innocent expression you can muster. It drives him wild. His hips twitch, sinking his cock further into the wet heat of your mouth and exhaling a blissful sigh. You gag around the sudden presence at the back of your throat. Adachi clenches his jaw as he holds back a moan. You recover and begin to bob your head on his cock, your tongue lavishing the tip with attention each time you pull back. He tangles his fingers in your hair; his grip is a threatening reminder that he could wrest control from you at any moment. "Mm, your mouth feels so good, baby.”

The noisy show you put on for him as you enthusiastically suck his cock makes Adachi's ego swell with pride. "You look like you're really enjoying yourself too. Just don't drip all over my floor-- I won't hesitate to make you lick it up." You moan around his cock. He can't tell if you're replying to him or getting off on the idea of doing something so degrading, but he doesn't care. If you want him to be mean, he'll gladly oblige. With both hands holding your head, he fucks your mouth, deep and quick thrusts that repeatedly choke you. Breathing becomes almost impossible. Lucky for you, he doesn't last long. Being able to use your body like this is far too satisfying.

"You don't swallow until I tell you to, understand?"

Just when you start to worry that you may actually pass out, he pulls out so only the tip is in your mouth. He sprays his cum all over your tongue, and you do your best to keep it from sliding to the back of your throat. He retracts his cock from your mouth once he's sure you've taken every last drop.

Adachi grabs your chin and appraises you as if you're a work of art. Your lips are swollen from the intensity of his thrusts, and your half lidded eyes are hazy with desire. The remnants of the tears that fell when he gagged you with his length still decorate your cheeks. It's the second time he's made you cry today. His cock twitches at the thought. 

"Open up. Let me see all my cum in that pretty mouth of yours."

He squeezes your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your mouth open. He bends over so that his face is mere inches from yours before spitting directly into your mouth. His saliva mingles with the cum still on your tongue in a horribly lascivious demonstration of his dominance. Being marked by a mix of his fluids feels so wrong, but that doesn't stop your walls from fluttering. He can tell it turns you on, and he loves it.

"You're so fucking pathetic. I haven't even fucked you yet, and you already look dickdrunk. You can swallow now, baby." The taste of his cum lingers even after you swallow it all. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. With a satisfied smirk, he brings himself back to his full height.

"Y'know, there have been studies that show cum is good for your mind. Maybe you'd do better in class if you drank my cum every day."

The comment reignites your disdain for the man above you and you roll your eyes, but the shakiness in your voice appears more diffident than defiant. "That sounds like bullshit someone made up to get their dick sucked."

He shrugs. "Maybe. If that's not a good enough excuse, I'll find other ways to convince you. Your grades _are_ in my hands, after all."

You scowl up at him, but given your current position, it's hardly threatening. "I'm aware."

"Good. Now get up." Once you stand up, he grabs your upper arm and tugs you over to his bed, practically throwing you onto it. He climbs between your legs and sits back on his knees, his eyes gleefully wide. He admires the way your bottom lip quivers as he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the side.

"Look at you," he exhales. "Why even bother trying to fix your grade? A stupid bitch like you isn't cut out for school." You tear your eyes from his toned chest to glare at him, seething and indignant and desperately trying to hide your arousal. He only beams in return. "Don't look at me like that, sweetie. It’s okay to admit it, I know you like this."

You’re about to argue, but the sudden feeling of Adachi’s hand trailing delicately along your thigh stops you. You gasp when he runs his fingers along your slit and intentionally misses that sensitive bundle of nerves. Two long fingers spread your lips, exposing you to both the cold air and your professor’s ravenous gaze. He marvels at the way your wetness glistens in the light. Your tousled hair, your heaving chest, your trembling thighs, your dripping cunt– this is all his doing, and that knowledge thrills him.

His reverent silence is somehow more uncomfortable to you than any of his demeaning dirty talk. "Why are you staring?" 

He scoffs. "Oh please, don't act like you don't like being admired, attention whore that you are." His voice and expression soften, and he gingerly strokes your cheek with the back of his free hand. "Your pussy is just so pretty, I want to get a good look at it before I make a mess of you," he coos. The flattery makes your heart flutter, and you mentally chastise yourself for proving him right.

Without warning, Adachi brings his fingers together and plunges them into you. Your surprised gasp quickly morphs into a pleased sigh. The hours-long anticipation had heightened your senses, making the experience far more intense than it was in the classroom. He's so damn good with his fingers, rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you with precise strokes and drawing out soft mewls each time. The sight of your lust-addled eyes and slightly parted lips brings a proud smirk to his face. Being able to pleasure you so easily feels good, but having the power to rip your enjoyment away from you at any moment feels even better. He retracts his hand, and you instinctively buck your hips up, desperate for more stimulation.

Adachi licks your juices off of his fingers with a satisfied hum while you stare up at him in a silent plea for more. "You taste good."

"You can taste more of me if you eat me out,” you suggest.

He laughs cruelly. "That's cute. You think you deserve that after all your bad behavior? You don't. You'll take care of my needs, and if you do a good enough job, I'll think about getting you off."

You pout, but that only strengthens his resolve to tease you. Watching you writhe and moan had brought his cock to full attention once again. You let out a surprised squeak as he pulls your hips off the bed to meet his, your legs dangling over the crook of each of his arms for stability. He grinds his cock against your folds, stimulating your clit in the process. His thumb rubs circles into your hip absentmindedly while you squirm beneath him. Unable to withstand the tempting heat radiating from your core for any longer, he brings his cock down to your entrance and slowly slides into you. He intently watches each inch disappear from view. Your breath catches in your throat as you stretch to accommodate him. He throws his head back with a groan once he's fully sheathed inside of you. "You have no idea how many times I've cum to the thought of taking you like this." Heat rises to your cheeks; he's somehow managed to make you even more embarrassed– and begrudgingly aroused– with the thought of him jerking off to you.

Those thoughts become muddled as Adachi starts fucking you with hard, deep, and torturously slow thrusts. Each time he bottoms out, you reward him with a soft moan. Your velvety insides grip him so deliciously, and the soft flesh of your hips gives way to the bruising pressure of his fingers. He thinks that he might get addicted to the way your body fits so perfectly with his. The decadence of it all makes his head spin.

"So _tight._ Your cunt was made for me, sweetheart. You should drop out and be my full-time cocksleeve. Doesn't that sound nice?"

In spite of yourself, your walls instinctively clamp around him. “That s-sounds– _ah_ – humiliating.” 

"Those pretty noises make me think you like being humiliated." He drops your hips back onto the bed, his pace increasing while he fucks you into the mattress. A hand comes up to roll your nipples between his fingers. You helplessly grasp at the sheets and your eyes flutter shut as the pleasure overwhelms you. He forces you out of your daze with a resounding slap to your cheek. 

"Eyes on me. Pay attention," he moans before he can finish the sentence, "when I'm ruining you, brat." You obey, staring up at his dark, hungry eyes. He manages to snake his hand between your bodies to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, fighting to maintain your focus on Adachi's face. His deft fingers combined with all of your denied orgasms bring you dangerously close to your peak. Your body tenses in anticipation of your release. Mouth agape and eyes barely open, you draw a final breath to prepare yourself. You're _so_ close. So very close to unraveling when he pulls away and wipes his wet fingers off on your tongue.

You're a whimpering mess beneath him, mumbling incoherent pleas for him to continue working his magic on your now neglected clit. You're so desperate for more of his touch that you don’t even have the energy to be angry with him for delaying your orgasm once again. _Exactly how he likes it._ He shushes you reassuringly, but the sadistic smile on his face returns once he finishes soothing you. "I changed my mind. I don't want you to cum tonight, princess. You’ve been bad, and you deserve to be punished." As if to prove his point, he raises his hand to your face to slap you again. You flinch, but the blow never lands. "Now tell me, who's my dumb little slut?"

"I-I am, professor."

"What's that? I couldn't hear you," he sneers. He stills his body, and the room goes silent, save for the sounds of heavy breathing.

"I'm your dumb little slut, professor."

He grins, teeth glinting frighteningly as he feverishly rams his cock inside you.

"You like that? You like getting railed by your teacher, you stupid bitch?" He groans as the head of his cock pounds into your cervix. "F-fucking _whore."_

It hurts, but the pain is exquisite. You crave more with each passing moment. You can't stop the words tumbling out of your mouth. "Please cum inside me, professor. Mark my pussy as yours so no one else can use me."

Your desperation shocks him, and the flush on his face grows more pronounced. His voice becomes huskier as he fights the overwhelming urge to hold you down and pump his load into you. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum if you say shit like that."

"Please… You can use me however you want, as long as you give me all your cum."

“Hah, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg this time... You’d be disgusting if you weren’t so sexy.” He tugs on your hair to give him better access to your neck and peppers it with passionate kisses. Each bite on your delicate skin is soothed with his tongue shortly after. His other hand captures your wrist and presses you further into the bed. The weight of his lips on the column of your throat isn't enough to choke you, but it’s suffocating nonetheless. "That's my good little cumslut," he growls against your jaw.

Any sense of rhythm disappears as Adachi approaches his climax. He repeats your name among a string of profanities in that sultry voice of his, and it feels to you like genuine praise. His hips stutter and he pushes himself as deep as possible, almost panting from exertion. Heat floods your cunt as his cock throbs inside you. It hasn't been long since his last orgasm, yet he somehow manages to fill you up. The sheer volume of his cum forces it to spill out around his cock. He reluctantly pulls out, only to push his cum back inside, eliciting a whine from you.

"Can't waste any of it, now can we?" You nod, eyes glazed over.

He stays like that until his cock softens and his breathing evens out. When he pulls out, you’re left with much stickier thighs than you had in the classroom earlier. You miss the sensation of fullness he had given you, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of telling him that. He gives a hum of approval as he assesses the damage he’s done to your body.

"Shit, I'm gonna get hard again just from seeing you like this. Thoroughly fucked is a good look for you, baby." You mumble an incoherent reply, prompting a laugh from your professor.

You look away, as if that will somehow hide you from his penetrating stare. Adachi grabs his phone off of the nightstand and snaps a picture of you. As a precaution, of course, for if you ever decide to leave him. He's sunk his teeth into you and he doesn't plan on letting go. He smiles and brushes your messy hair out of your face. It’s almost sweet, if it weren’t for the smug smirk on his face and the depraved look in his eyes. 

"You don’t look like you’re in any state to leave. You can stay the night if you promise to take care of my needs in the morning."

Exhausted as you are, you agree to his proposal. If you weren't so drained from being fucked silly, perhaps you would realize that he was serious about his heat of the moment suggestion to make you into his personal fucktoy, and that you were only playing into his fantasy by agreeing to spend the night at his place. But you're far too tired to think, so you lie down until sleep takes you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter will be a bonus chapter with cockwarming while grading! >:3


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